Singing of the Blue Bird
by these-dreams-go-on
Summary: My tumblr drabbles collected in one place for your perusal. Klaroline/Kalijah and whatever else took my fancy.
1. A Little Imagination is a Good Thing

Continuing on with the post season 3 TO

* * *

Darkness and suffering.

His only two constant companions for the long stretch of years, the days that had inched by and yet bled together at the same time.

The darkness of his world and his mind, the physical and psychological suffering.

They never left him.

But sometimes they were interrupted.

"Camille," Klaus gasps, pushing himself off the ground, his chains rattling on the floor and on his mind, "Camille."

"I'm here." Her voice, gentle and soothing reaches his ear and she is sitting behind him, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap.

She is human and in good health, happy to listen to him as he wraps himself in self-pity and comfort.

He likes to hallucinate her, to let her voice filter through his mind like soft music, agreeing with him,

She was his only welcome visitor.

But there was another one who often made her presence known.

" _Seriously?!_ " A harsh voice cuts through the darkness, "You're _still_ down here?"

Caroline Forbes storms across his prison cell, an invasion of light and life in his hell,

She glares down at him and kicks at his chains, causing them to scrape against the floor and tug on his raw wrists.

"This is ridiculous, Klaus, you're the _Original hybrid_ , so stop feeling sorry for yourself and figure out an escape!"

"We've been over this!" he snaps at her, his temper being the one part of him left with any real strength, "There is no escape."

She scoffs and looks over his shoulder, "This is your fault," she tells Camille,

"If you didn't coddle him and let him feel sorry for himself, he would have been out of here _ages_ ago."

She stomps her foot and paces the length of prison, examining the walls carefully and studying the iron hooks which hold his chains to the wall,

"Think," she says, frowning thoughtfully, "There is always a way."

How many times had she said this to him? How many times had they discussed the length and strength of his chains? The infrequency of Marcel's visits? How he could possibly break the spell keeping him in this prison?

He supposed it was his own fault. When the boredom had first set in, he'd entertained himself with memories of Caroline, then fantasies where they'd coupled in his very cell in various positions and levels of intimacy.

Except then she'd started turning up in nightclothes, like she wore now and his brain had stopped allowing her to be a distraction and turned her against him as a form of torment.

Now, the only words she ever had for him were condemnatory- demanding that he escape- or scornful- furious that he allowed himself to be held this way.

"How are you, sweetheart?" he asks, trying to distract her as she stretches out to study the area. "Tell me you're seeing the world, travelling or living your life."

Her back is still to him but he knows that she's rolling her eyes and she crosses her arms, as she spins on her heel to face him.

"Why aren't you desiccated?" she demands, frowning in confusion,

"It's been years, why aren't you motionless on the floor?"

He raises his arm to run a hand through his thick, curly hair, "Marcel keeps me fed, not enough to gain my strength but enough to keep me conscious."

"But _why?_ " she demands, her eyes lighting up as they did whenever she caught onto an idea,

"You're Klaus Mikaelson! Even chained up, you're dangerous, so why not desiccate you?"

There's something scratching at the back of his mind, but Klaus fights it, too afraid to touch the idea,

"Because from time to time, he comes to speak to me," he answers, "And I think he likes to watch me suffer."

Caroline shakes her head,

"No, that can't be it, because then he could just starve you until you were motionless but still able to talk, you'd be in even more pain. Why is he letting you move?"

Klaus doesn't immediately speak, he drops his eyes to his knees and chained hands, looking from his left to right,

"He needs me fed." he notes, raising his face as she crouches down in front of him,

"And what happens if you desiccate?" she asks excitedly, "To the point where you can only just move?"

"The magic holding me here might think me dead and thus, release its hold on me," He muses, a hint of the devil returning to his eyes and his lips as he raises his arms as high as they can go, "You might be a figment of my maddened imagination, love," he tells her,

"But wish me luck anyway."

He slams his hands down on the ground, breaking his wrists and fingers until he can pull them through the manacles holding him in place, his feet undergoing the same treatment.

With only a thrill of fear, he moves to the very edge of his prison, hesitating until Caroline comes to stand beside him, "Hurry up." she snaps and he nods, "Very well."

He brings his wrist to his mouth and bites down, sinking his fangs into his flesh, tearing down to the elbow so as to increase the blood flow and reopening the wounds when his healing kicked in.

When his vision swims and spots dance before his eyes, he whispers a prayer, steps forward…

And falls to his knees.

Outside his prison cell.

The merest hint of a triumphant laugh brushes his lips as he starts crawling to freedom.

* * *

Caroline awoke with a ragged gasp, clenching the bed sheets under her.

She's paralyzed again, unable to move and though this happened every time she woke up from that particular nightmare, she's still terrified until she can twitch her toes and then shift her legs.

She recalls the nightmare, the Klaus of her imagination escaping his cell and wonders if- now that he was free- that she would go back to nights of dreamless sleep?

It had originally started out as sexual fantasies that had turned into that freaky imprisonment scenario that her self-help book told her was due to stressors that she was experiencing during the day, which made perfect sense.

One of those stressors being that she didn't even know where Klaus was.

With a sigh of annoyance, she rolls over and punches the pillow, hoping she can fall back to sleep.

She does and is so tired that she sleeps past her alarm, so it's nearly midday when she's woken by the insistent knocking on her door.

If it's Jehovah's Witness, she's going to live-feed today.

Growling and barely remembering to throw on her bathrobe, she stomps down the hall and pulls open the door, "Yes? What do you…oh."

Klaus is standing on her front step, covered in dirt, dust, blood and most alarmingly, the same outfit he'd worn in every last one of her dreams.

He is swaying on his feet and looks exhausted, but he's smiling as he sees the pink nightgown she's wearing, "I always liked it when you wore that one."

* * *

A/N- Goodluck with TO Season 4


	2. After Steroline

A/N- Continuing on with the post S3 of TO

* * *

Klaus Mikaelson was having somewhat of an intense day.

For the last five years, he'd been imprisoned behind a brick wall while Marcel madly drove New Orleans into the ground, rendering it into a ghost town where only the paranoid and insane remained.

But on the upside, it had been nice to have a little peace and quiet.

Right up until that morning when his family had burst right back into his life like a meteor crashing into earth.

One of the really big ones that should have wiped out all lifeforms and left shattered chunks of planet floating in its wake.

Freya throwing spells like they were m&ms, Elijah taking out more hearts than a twenty-first century boy band, Rebekah managing to dismantle everything Marcel had built while also defining their relationship which they idiotically seemed to think could recover from the latest coup d'etat.

And Kol- well, he was being Kol, his default setting left havoc in his wake.

It was rather impressive. Not that he saw any of it firsthand, he was too busy practically pushing Hayley out of the way- hybrid so she could handle it- to stare in complete and utter bewilderment at the girl standing behind her.

His littlest wolf, his Hope.

His _redheaded_ daughter?!

"It's just the light," Hayley explained after he'd finished reuniting with her and in true Mikaelson form, she'd manipulated the emotional situation to wrangle the promise of a puppy from him. "She's blonde in summer but when she first started getting red tinges, I swear I ordered the DNA test myself."

Klaus turns from the hotel bed where he'd tucked his daughter in, " _And?_ "

"Oh, definitely yours, specific genetic material that could have only come from a Viking. Lots of compulsion necessary to get away with that one."

He'd smirked, kissed her cheek goodnight and gone to the hotel roof top bar where he'd received the colorful description of the day's events.

From Caroline Forbes herself.

Of course, that had been over the celebratory glass of champagne, and the mimosa to toast his freedom, the martinis had been because she hadn't had one in years and then, when they'd got to the tequila shots- then her presence in NOLA had been explained.

"Stefan broke up with me!" she'd sobbed, "Because he thought he had another chance with _Elena!_ "

Klaus had sat rigid on the couch in shock as she'd wept into his shirt,

"Bonnie found a way to wake up Elena so she could save Damon but Damon didn't want to be human right away so then Stefan told me that Elena was his first love and if she was willing to live as a human with him that he had to take it and now he'd chasing her across Texas, because Elena's chasing Damon across Texas and he left me on a freaking _maybe!_ "

"No," Klaus shook his head, unable to process, "Sweetheart, he cannot be that bloody thick."

He reaches down and drags his nails across his arm, watching the blood pool as a means of determining reality from fiction. It had worked every time before but he doubts the results now.

Whilst he'd figured that Stefan would break Caroline's heart one day, he'd always assumed it would be when the doppelganger specifically requested the resumption of his services in the bedroom.

Who ends a relationship with an amazing woman on a microscopic chance of something else?

He asks this out loud and Caroline hiccups through her tears, " _Right?!_ And then I realized that you would never of treated me like this, which is why I came to rescue you and because I wanted rebound sex to turn into relationship sex and I'm drunk right now but I'll totally sound less like I'm using you for your body tomorrow."

She patted his hand and pushed herself up, "But seriously? We're gonna do lots of cuddling tonight!"

Well, considering that sixty percent of the hotel inhabitants were his siblings and they were all on the same floor, he was definitely okay with this scenario.

Besides, after the day he's had, and the preceding one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five beforehand, a little rest would be nice.

* * *

One of the downsides of being in a long-term relationship was picking up your significant other's habits.

For example, Klaus now had a tendency to eye-roll that had at one point driven Elijah to try and remove aforementioned eyes with a grapefruit spoon.

It had been the only cutlery on hand at the time.

He had also started using the word seriously a lot more and was consciously trying to stop that because it was embarrassing for an evil hybrid to have the vocabulary and crutch words of a twenty-one year old woman.

Besides, Freya was getting way too much amusement from the situation.

However, that fine October morning, when he and Hope had been walking Miss Peregrine the blonde Chow-Chow, they had been in the middle of discussing all of Hope's favourite things about Halloween when Klaus had suddenly found himself facing the scenario of borrowing one of Caroline's key words or swearing up such a storm that he'd have to compel away his daughter's memories.

So he'd settled for ' _Seriously?!_ '

Stefan Salvatore was standing on Bourbon St, out of view of the manor which they'd finally rebuilt, but definitely intending to go inside.

And Klaus doubted it was because somebody was trying to kill him.

He turns to him and offers a brief nod, "Klaus."

He's being treated aloofly by his own _guest_.

Hope and Miss Peregrine look between the two of them, "Daddy?"

Klaus sighs and strokes her hair, "Run along and grab your breakfast, sweetheart."

Of course, because she's a Mikaelson, Hope wants to stay and watch whatever drama is about to unfold but she settles for taking her puppy's leash and stalking away, giving Stefan such a pointed sniff as she goes past that he has to wonder how Rebekah's only her half-aunt.

When she's out of ear shot, Klaus shakes his head, "Come on then," he sighs, "Might as well get this over with."

"You know why I'm here?" he double-checks and Klaus shrugs, leading him into the courtyard.

"I'm not an idiot and you're still a vampire, but Caroline would be awfully upset if I decorated Bourbon St with your innards."

He leaves Stefan in the courtyard and goes in search of his girlfriend of sixteenth months now, swinging past the kitchen to find Freya and Elijah in the midst of a pancake production line for Hope, Josie and Lizzie.

For the life of the lot of them, they still couldn't tell the twins apart and Caroline refused to let them put name tags on her daughters.

Caroline is in the bathroom getting ready for work and, in a moment of terror, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her close and burying his nose in her hair.

"Do you think this lipstick works?" she asks, frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

"Stefan is downstairs." Klaus offers as answer. The look on her face is almost beautifully comical, not an expression you saw outside of an Audrey Hepburn movie and she spins around so quickly that he reels his head back,

" _Seriously?!_ " she demands and he blinks,

"That's exactly what I said but there was always a chance of this happening."

Caroline is speechless for a good minute before slapping his shoulder,

"Are you freaking _kidding me_? Of all the _nerve!_ "

She storms out of the bathroom and unfortunately, every Mikaelson over the age of fifteen picks up on the drama and gathers along the outer gallery, watching with coffee or tea cups in hand, in various stages of dress.

Caroline greets Stefan with a slap so loud and sharp that Klaus almost feels jealous- he'd never got a smack like that.

"What are you doing here?" she shrieks, "I didn't hear a word from you for _two years_ and now you walk into my fiance's house and…oh my god we're reliving history…this is beyond pathetic."

As one, his siblings turn to him, somewhat surprised about the news of his engagement, as was he but if Caroline wants to promote him he's not going to argue.

"I made a mistake," Stefan begins bravely, "Caroline, seeing Elena again, it drove me crazy…all I could think about was her and it was wrong, I know that now."

Now being two _years_ after having broken her heart to go chasing after his newly awakened ex-girlfriend who had been determined to make a life for herself with his brother.

It's rare that Klaus isn't arguably the biggest ass in the room.

Caroline's shout of frustration and disgust is so loud that it manages to draw Katherine from her room, she sticks her head out the door, but sees Stefan and hastily makes herself scarce. Elijah looks relieved.

"You left me to go chase after my best friend- who you always chose over me- and when she rejected you, which duh! Everyone knew was going to happen, you decided to come and try your luck again with me? And what was the plan Stefan? You think I'm just going to run off with you into the sunset? Hey, why don't I quit my job and just leave my girls here as well, I'm sure Klaus wouldn't mind raising them after I ditch him for the guy who ditched _me_ for Elena Gilbert."

Honestly, Klaus didn't really mind Twin 1 and Twin 2, but admittedly Freya did the lions share of care taking when Caroline was at work.

Stefan is clearly trying to come up with a response but he's about two years and several positive progressions in Klaus and Caroline's relationship too late.

He probably should have at least sent a text before their month long holiday in Paris.

Caroline isn't cruel however, so she does pity him slightly, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Stop trying to recreate the past, Stefan, you did it with Elena and now you're doing it with me. Move on, find a new town, new friends and a new love who doesn't look like Katherine."

Or Caroline, Klaus adds silently but wisely keeps his mouth shut.

That evening, he sneaks into her office with dinner for two and dessert for the team who were only ever too willing to accept his bribes. Caroline's emotions are still wrought from the day so he finds himself naked against the wall as she rides him like it's their last night on earth.

Five minutes later she looks perfectly immaculate while he's sitting on the floor trying to remember his own name.

"I love you." she sings as she heads down the hall,

"Love you too." he manages to croak out.

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading.


	3. She Was Wrong

A/N- Thanks to the reviewer who alerted me to the mistake I made posting the same chapter twice, and sorry for that everyone.

* * *

Liz Forbes never really liked to admit when she was wrong.

After all, being a female Sheriff in charge of a mostly male department wasn't easy and she'd had to cop a lot of flak from not only her colleagues but from the town people who didn't like being ordered or arrested by a woman.

So being wrong about something could mean losing what respect and footing she'd gained.

But this time, she would gladly admit she had been wrong all those years ago.

It had been an overcast summer day, raining heavily and she had been watching an afternoon movie in her living room, deliberately pretending to be engrossed in the tv while she was definitely aware that her daughter was in a car parked just a few houses down the street, making out with Niklaus Mikaelson.

Although, that wasn't what she had been wrong about, after all, anyone could have seen that her daughter and that boy would end up dating, it had been very clear since they were about six years old and Caroline had come home with a Valentine's Day card that had been an origami heart.

Liz was pretty sure they still had that somewhere around the house.

They'd been inseparable for years- until now.

Klaus had been granted a scholarship and early admissions to Sorbonne University in Paris to study art.

He would be leaving at the end of the summer, which was only another two weeks away.

And Liz had figured that their relationship wouldn't survive that.

Being in two different time zones and two different continents?

No matter how much Caroline plotted and planned, Liz had watched the two of them with a sinking heart and guessed that they would drift apart until they stopped making a place for each other in their lives.

And she was sorry for that, because the two of them were so in love that it felt good to see them together.

And when Caroline came home after seeing Klaus off at the airport, three hours late because she hadn't been able to drive she was crying so hard, Liz felt her own heart break too.

Then had come the postcards, one sent from the airport and arriving almost every day until the mailman was almost as invested in the relationship as she was.

Then one day, not only had the daily postcard arrived, but it had come on top of a thick package from the United Kingdom.

And when Liz had seen the stamp and address, she'd committed a federal crime and opened it.

Inside was a letter congratulating Caroline on having been accepted to study Urban Design at University College London, followed by a long list of the scholarships she had won.

Underneath that, had been the loyalty card that Caroline had already signed up for on a train called the Eurostar, which ran from London straight to Paris in just over two hours.

It's at this point that she starts to suspect that she had been wrong.

And her heart breaks again at her daughter going so far away to study but when it's one of the top twenty universities in the world, she can't stop her, so she and Bill coordinate meeting at a hotel near Richmond airport, taking Caroline out for dinner before seeing her through the gates and then finding an airport lounge to drink and cry with pride over how their baby girl has grown up.

The postcards from Paris don't stop arriving but the number dies down, Klaus still keeping in touch and postcards from London soon follow, along with skype calls and long emails. From what Liz can gather, every Thursday night (because God forbid humanities students have classes on Fridays) Caroline either catches the train to Paris or Klaus comes to see her in London, and Liz felt sorry for their roommates until she found out that they had their own rooms.

Klaus graduates before Caroline and from what she can gather from her daughter's email, something about his visa meant he had to go back to America without her because she was finishing exams.

Liz somewhat suspects that is bull and when Klaus turns up on her doorstep looking a little nervous, she finally admits to herself that she had been wrong.

"I think you two should work for a year before getting engaged," she tells him before he even steps inside, "Have you spoken to Bill?"

He exhales, "I'm seeing him next, I really did have to get my visa sorted out in New York."

He reaches into his pocket and draws out a blue velvet box,

"I sold a few paintings and bought this for Caroline, do you think she'll like it?"

Liz notes the Tiffany and Co stamp, opens the lid and swallows her shriek at the square cut diamond in the platinum band.

Damn, her daughter knew how to pick 'em.

She manages to hold herself together long enough to hug the poor boy and until she gets a call from Bill where he mutters that he wish Steven had bought him a ring like that.

She feels as though she wants to cry but can't stop smiling.

She manages both when a year later, on Christmas Eve, Caroline surprises her with a visit back home and practically bounces through the door with the engagement ring on her finger.

And Liz Forbes had honestly never been so glad to be wrong about something.

* * *

A/N- Short but sweet?


	4. A Birthday Party

A/N- A little drabble about Hayley Caroline friendship in NOLA, written a very long time ago.

* * *

Hayley Marshall knew there were a lot of things she couldn't do.

She can't sing. She can't play a musical instrument. For the life of her she can't recognize any herb that isn't being used to kill or heal her…

But she is an expert at taking the Original family and all the weird crap that comes with them in her stride.

So when she meanders into the compound, pushing Hope in her pram and finds it in chaos, she only sips her coffee and looks around for the obvious source.

Because people coming to kill them usually don't bring caterers and decorators.

She finds Caroline on the gallery, arguing with a party planner,

"No, I know what I want and I've given you the instructions, now make it work or flee the city in fear of your life"

"Hey," Hayley says, getting Caroline's attention and seeing the blonde go from annoyed to happy in a matter of seconds,

"Hi," she greets her cheerily before turning to Hope,

"Hey sweetie" she coos, "Who is going to be a big girl soon?"

For a moment Hayley thinks Caroline is calling her daughter fat before she continues on about birthdays and realizes that yeah, Hope was about to turn two.

And no, she's not a bad mother per se.

It's just that between the kidnapping, killing, resurrection as a hybrid and taking out the witches, Hayley and Klaus had had trouble pinpointing Hope's exact moment of birth and neither really cared to remember those hectic days.

Also, while the Originals celebrated holidays, trying to get them to pinpoint an actual day was a little tricky.

For them the Gregorian calendar was more a guideline than anything.

But this would be Hope's first birthday at home and Hayley is wracked with the sudden, horrifying guilt and the knowledge that she must be the worst mother in the world.

Of course, most mothers have this feeling from time to time, just last week one of her pack's new mothers, Lisa had been a sobbing mess because she couldn't remember where she'd left her toddler's favourite teddy bear.

Thankfully, Caroline Forbes is the best event planner in town.

"Now, I just want to run this past you, just in case you want to veto it," she begins, taking a deep breath, "But, I thought we could make the theme, The Wizard of Oz?"

Of course she has a theme picked out. Hayley remembers the movie vaguely, okay she might have done the whole Pink Floyd sync up with her friends with a little recreational fun, but bright colours and cheery songs come to mind.

One especially.

"Ding Dong the Witch is dead?" Hayley prompted, "Really?!"

Caroline shrugs, "Well, Dahlia is dead. Hope is safe, Kol is resurrected and we're currently at peace with…well…everyone"

"So this is going to be Hope's birthday party and a celebration for everyone else" she mused as she considered it, "What the hell, it'll be good for us all to get together and party"

Caroline beams, "Excellent, and I figure we can dress Freya up as Glinda the Good Witch, we can have a pile of black clothes in a corner to represent Dahlia and…how do you feel about ruby slippers?"

"I feel as though Jackson would divorce me if you dressed him up as Toto." Hayley told her firmly but then giggled,

"Whose Klaus going to dress up as?" Hayley asks and Caroline is about to speak when they're interrupted,

" _Klaus is not dressing up as anything or anyone_ " the hybrid in question calls from three rooms over, " _Any attempts to convince him otherwise will be not be successful_ "

Caroline frowns, "Seriously?! When did you get home?"

Klaus sticks his head out and Hayley sees the paint on his chin,

"Sweetheart, I've been here all morning, but unlike the scarecrow, I have a brain and know enough to not get in the way when you're planning a party"

It always amazes her when Klaus or Elijah know anything pop-culture. She still can't believe that Elijah watches Game of Thrones, although Gia swore up and down that he knows more about the series than anyone.

Hope squeals and claps her hands as her daddy approaches and scoops her into his arms,  
"Come my littlest wolf" he kisses her cheek, "Time to learn about the Pre-Raphaelite style of painting"

"Don't get any paint on her clothes" Hayley orders as her daughter is carried off,

"I mean it, I see paint I'm putting vervein in your scotch"

She turns back to Caroline, "There'll be alcohol at this party right?" she asks, "Because I don't think we could have a peace party without plenty of booze to keep everyone feeling peaceful"

Caroline nods, "I'm literally bringing out cauldrons of the stuff after six pm, want to help me pick the food?"

Hayley's never thrown a party before, but she spends the rest of the day with Caroline picking out menus, decorations and even trying to figure out whether they could find a fake hot air balloon to place Hope in and she decides that there's a lot of fun to be had in event planning

* * *

A/N- There we go.


	5. Crossing the Stars

A/N- This was one of my Halloween offerings.

* * *

When waking up on a weekday morning; there was a very short list of things Klaus Mikaelson liked to see.

The time of his phone telling him he had at least another hour or two of sleep.

A blue sky that promised, if not a warm day, at least a bright one.

His beautiful girlfriend curled up beside him.

What he didn't like to see was anything unpleasant.

That was a pretty long list already but when he woke up that Thursday morning, the list had to become one item longer.

And the new number one?

A severed head floating an inch above his face.

Admittedly, he might have screamed a filthy curse word as he threw himself backwards, scrambling as far away from the unwelcome intruder on his sleep.

He's half hanging off the bed when the head flickers out of existence and he's left wondering where it went before his brain catches on to the fact that it must have been a hologram.

Which means…

"Sweetheart," he gasped, " _Why?_ "

Caroline came into the room with a wide smile of excitement, practically bouncing on her toes, "Did I scare you?"

She'd probably shaved a good decade or two off his life, certainly she'd bloody woken him up.

He puts a hand to his severely overstrained heart and feels it racing like he'd just run a bloody marathon, which he likely would have done if the disembodied head had decided to give chase.

"Yes, you did," he admits, and she smiles in satisfaction, tapping her finger to her holodeck before padding across the room, kissing him on the lips as she goes past.

"Is there a reason you wanted to scare the living daylights out of me?" he grouches as he follows her downstairs to the kitchen where she already had a pot of tea sitting on the counter,

"I am preparing for Halloween," she answers, pouring him a cup of vervein tea that he would drink only out of love for her.

"It is a tradition to dedicate this day to terrifying people, is it not?"

Ah.

He checks the time on the oven and tries to figure out how to accurately explain Halloween in five minutes or less to his girlfriend.

"Some people like to be absolutely terrified," he begins, "Some just like to eat lots of candy, put on stupid costumes and get drunk."

Caroline sips on her tea and frowns, "I thought only children wore the costumes? And four months ago, you said children aren't allowed alcohol."

Right.

He sucks on his lips and tries again, "Some adults wear costumes as well, they're the ones that get drunk, the kids go from door to door and we give them candy."

She opens her mouth- probably to remind him about the time he told her not to give candy to children on the street and he can feel his brain already beginning to throb in protest.

"I'll explain it all when I get home from work," he promises, "In the meantime…don't actively try to terrify people alright?"

She frowns and huffs, her shoulders dropping but wraps an arm about his shoulders anyway, bringing him forward so she can press his cheek to hers, rubbing them together and he feels the tiny papillae on her skin tickling his own.

"May you come home safely." She chirps as she picks up her tea and heads to her home office, probably to send a message back home.

* * *

Klaus waited until he was stuck in traffic and bored out of his brain before making the call.

Sheriff Forbes knew his number so when she actually answered instead of sending him to voicemail, he found himself suspicious.

His suspicions were confirmed when he could hear the amusement in her voice,

 _"Morning Mikaelson,"_ she chuckled, _"How's your day going so far?"_

He glowered at the car in front of him, "You were bloody in on it, weren't you?"

She laughs and he hears the creak as she leans back in her chair,

 _"Who do you think gave her the idea of the severed head? She wanted it to be a ghost but I managed to convince her otherwise."_

"Right," he grumbles, "No point in asking why you're getting such pleasure out of this…"

 _"Consider this a small part of the payback for almost your every waking moment from the time you hit thirteen until you realized you would be tried as an adult."_ She warns and he has a brief flashback to the time he'd found the location to old police department septic tank, dug down to the hatch and thrown cherry bombs in.

To this day he's still surprised that she let him live.

"I do need your help, however," he continues, "Caroline's holodeck gave her a version of Halloween that we're going to need to flesh out a little bit."

The Sheriff hums and he can practically see her shrug, _"Nah, I like the thought of her dedicating the weekend to scaring you senseless."_

"Oh yes, what a brilliant idea," he deadpans, "Let's have the alien running around terrifying folk, that won't harm Earth-Martian relations at all."

He sees the light turn green up ahead and presses the pedal gently,

"Mystic Falls nearly rioted when her hatch-brother started working in the hospital and he spends his days literally curing cancer patients and rebuilding spinal cords, what d'you think they'll do if Caroline mistakes the spirit of the holiday?"

He knows he's point when she grunts, _"Okay, I'll try and talk to her, maybe get her to spread the word through the alien grapevine."_

* * *

It had been two years prior when the question, 'Is humankind alone in the universe?' had been rather rudely answered by spaceships landing in Iceland.

Martian spaceships.

As it turned out, Mars could sustain life, only the life wasn't on the surface, hadn't been for centuries but had rather gone underground, building entire cities with technology that ensured that they wouldn't need to venture to the dusty surface.

The Martians had been somewhat aware of Earth for a while but had waited until they were ready to make contact and doing so in the manner they thought best suited to preventing widespread panic.

They had bioengineered humanoid creatures to resemble homo sapiens and- mining information from the International Space Station- had sent them to Earth to make contact.

It had been a shock for humanity, but many countries had allowed the aliens to stay, which was in no small part to the fact that they were amazingly attractive and had first mistaken diamonds for the main form of currency and used handfuls of the gem to buy anything from packs of gum to houses.

They had also brought technology that had changed the world for the better, advancing medicine by decades, reducing carbon footprints to nearly zero and methods of food production that drastically reduced waste and ensured that every country was able to feed every single citizen if they wished.

Many still didn't but that was a work in progress.

Which most of the Martians were taking part in.

A year after contact, another spaceship had appeared in the sky and sent down hundreds of egg shaped pods, to every country in the world where a Martian would represent the intergalactic partnership, except there had been a lightning storm over America that day, so the pod that was supposed to have landed in Washington D.C had crashed down in Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Klaus had been at work in Richmond that day but had received updates every five minutes from his brother Kol, who had skipped school and signed Henrik out of hospital to see the pod.

That was when they'd seen Caroline, who had been pulled from the wreckage by the Sheriff.

Of course, her name hadn't been Caroline then, but it was the closest humans could get to pronouncing her name so she'd chosen it and rather than get the hell out of Mystic Falls and gun it straight to D.C- like any politician would have done- she'd declared that it must have been fate that had landed her there and stuck around.

She had moved in with Sheriff Forbes and taken her last name, trying to pay rent in diamonds before the woman had insisted on greenbacks.

The Mikaelson family home was next door to the Sheriff and it had only been a matter of time before Klaus had met Caroline.

Unfortunately, he'd first met her when she had been fixing Henrik's broken spine- on the front lawn because on Mars it was apparently a procedure so easy it could be done anywhere in under an hour and with little more than a few scary looking instruments that had made Klaus think that she was cutting her brother open to eat him.

Even more unfortunately, Caroline's grasp of the American and British vernacular had been advanced enough at this point that she'd understood exactly the words he had used and some of the less flattering things he'd called her.

But when Henrik had walked for the first time in three years, when he had run and kicked a ball and climbed a tree, Klaus had dedicated all his spare time to moving them past that first encounter.

He hadn't meant to fall for her, but she had such a light, such a strength and kindness to her that he couldn't resist.

It hadn't been easy, for one thing, kissing wasn't something Martians did, preferring to rub cheeks as a form of endearment but that was an easy barrier to overcome, especially because Caroline had a rough tongue that made kissing and other mouth related activities amazing. But human-alien relations weren't something many people were willing to accept.

His brother Finn declared him as good as dead to him.

His siblings congratulated him on having achieved such a feat.

He and Caroline had moved in together around the six-month mark.

* * *

Marcel was one of the friends that Klaus had managed to keep after word had got around that he was dating Caroline, but because the bastard had laughed so loudly when he'd found out about Klaus' morning, he had forcibly invited him home for dinner, deciding that he personally would cook.

Except when he pulls up to his house in Mystic Falls, it was to find it almost unrecognizable.

The front lawn had been transformed into a haunted graveyard, fake tombs dotted across the grass with arms and legs protruding from the dirt, cobwebs floating in the breeze and at least two zombies climbing up towards the chimney.

"Wow!" Marcel murmured from the passenger seat, "She did all this in one day?"

Klaus climbs out of the car just as a costumed Henrik comes bounding out the front door towards him, "Hey Nik!" he shouts, "Look!"

He turns in a circle, "Caroline dressed me up as an alien for Halloween! She said that I can't look like a real Martian and she and her hatch-mates weren't ever kids but she and I made the fake tentacle things for my face and she said she might even let me borrow her holodeck for the night!"

Klaus wraps an arm around Henrik's shoulders, "You look great mate," he tells him, "Go show Finn, would you?"

See if his brother's head exploded.

He leads Marcel inside to the kitchen where he can smell fresh baked cookies and sees a chocolate cake cooling on the counter decorated with marzipan bats and Caroline is running her finger in the air, scrolling through her holodeck to study a recipe for pumpkin pie.

She's wearing a witch's hat and little black dress that exposes miles of long leg and Klaus can't resist wrapping his arms around her and drawing her in for a kiss.

"Hi," she giggles, "So, Liz called me and told me how much fun Halloween was supposed to be, so I planned everything accordingly, what do you think?"

He thinks that he's never really cared about Halloween.

He went trick or treating when he was younger and then babysat Kol and Rebekah until they were old enough to go on their own but after that, he'd maybe watch a scary movie if it was the weekend or otherwise go out drinking with his friends.

But this year? For Caroline?

He wonders if it's too late to by a costume, hell, he can probably find some fake blood and go as a vampire, that's easy. They can watch scary movies and eat enough candy to make them crave vegetables and swear off sugar for life.

For her, he'd celebrate this holiday as if it were Christmas.

He grins, "I think this'll be the best Halloween ever!"


	6. Mine

A/N- A Mini Drabble.

* * *

'Mine.', Klaus thought to himself, mulling the word over in his mind, 'Mine.'

It was just after midnight in New Orleans and the world outside was still loud and festive with life, but inside the manor, inside his bedroom, the noise was muted and dulled until it only existed in the periphery.

He lay in his antique bed, with the silk sheets and duvet gathered at his waist, he wore a white undershirt and grey tracksuit pants, beside him, a beautiful blonde in a white nightgown that barely kept her decent.

Only her arm lay above the covers and he trailed the barest tips of his fingernails up and down her skin, barely disturbing the hairs and leaving little goosebumps in his wake.

'Mine', he repeated, 'All mine'

It was Pliny the Younger who had said that "An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit"

Except that even in possession, the charm of having Caroline had not lessened over time.

Indeed, even now, the mere contemplation of her was causing him to become aroused.

His vision sharpens as his fangs tickle his gums and he slides towards her, tugging the covers down to expose her back, covered only by two straps of the gown that was bundled at the top of her thighs, exposing the white silk panties. An adorable little frown marks her forehead at the loss of warmth as she shuffles towards him, closing the last millimeter of distance and he grins triumphantly as he pressed his hardening length against her bum.

She wakes up just as his hand steals over her shoulder to palm her left breast, humming as she half-opens her eyes, "What are you doing?" she asks in a breathy sigh as he gives a little thrust and she gasps, pushing her chest into his hand as he squeezes her globe.

"Ravishing you," he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and nipping at her skin,

"Any objections?"

She chuckles and looks over her shoulder, her eyes still bleary with sleep but amused and aroused, "None," she answers, "Ravish away."

He takes her hand and guides it backwards, as she lays her head back down on the pillow, slipping it into his tracksuit pants to wrap around his cock,

"Take care of that for me, would you love?"

"Uh huh," Caroline hums as she adjusts her hold and runs it up and down his length, rubbing her thumb over the tip until a drop of pre-cum came out,

"Seems like you're ready to go."

He laughs and brushes her hair onto the pillow, exposing her fair neck before pulling her nightgown up to her stomach to expose her to his hungry eyes.

"And you, sweetheart?" he asks as he tugs her panties down to her bent knees, pressing a hand to her thigh when she would have rolled over to remove them,

"Are you ready?"

She bites her lip and squeezes him just a little too tight as she knew he liked and his eyes roll back into his head, "What do you think?"

Klaus slides his hand between her thighs, kept together by her panties and he slowly trails up until he encounters her wet heat, humming with satisfaction, he slides his hand over her hip and back down to press his thumb to her clit and slip two fingers between her folds.

He growled, pumping his fingers as she whimpered, "Now, Caroline."

He pushed his pants down and she guided him to her entrance, moaning and burying her face in the pillow when he thrust inside her. She digs her fingers into the pillow and he grins, kissing the back of her neck as he took her, "So wet, my love," he pants as he rubs her clit, "You wanted this, didn't you?"

She whimpers, lifting her face away from the pillow, "Yes," she admits with a sob as she writhes against him,

"I wanted this…I wanted you…Klaus."

He grins and seeks out her orgasm, thrusting harder as she quivers around him, her pussy tightening as she neared the edge and she buried her face in the pillow, moaning loudly as she came apart. She became loose and fluid in his arms, and he palmed her breast again, thumbing the hardened nipples as she turned her face towards his for a kiss. His eyes flash gold and he captures her lips, devouring her passionately as he emptied himself inside her in long spurts.

Caroline twists her body so she can kiss him more easily and he props himself above her on his elbows, grinning as her nightgown slips down over her breasts,

"I would love to paint you like this," He tells her, "You make a beautiful picture."

She quirks an eyebrow, "Not a chance," she pats his cheek, "Go back to sleep, Nik."

He glowers playfully and pretends to nip at her fingers as she rolls back onto her side, pulling up her panties and rearranging the covers,

"Goodnight, love." He sighed, getting up to finally turn off the light.

* * *

A/N- Hope everyone enjoyed the series finale.


	7. Forget

A/N- Here's one of my tumblr drabbles that absolutely no-one had any issues with whatsoever. Enjoy!

* * *

12:01pm

Klaus Mikaelson frowned as he contemplated the bouquet of roses on his doorstep.

The yellow roses that he'd ordered from Richmond and were supposed to have been delivered to a certain young vampire whose hair was the exact same shade as these expensive petals.

He spies a piece of paper between the neatly trimmed and beribboned stems, which is odd because he hadn't bothered with a card.

Who else sent bouquets of flowers in Mystic Falls?

The paper is ordinary and the pen that had scrawled blue ink across it was the typical product of its day.

The word was casual, simple and offered no apologies and little explanation.

 _"Nope."_

Despite himself, Klaus smirks, in the entirety of the world, who else but she would have the courage to so boldly refuse his gift and the knowledge that she could do so safely?

Perhaps a more personal gift would win her esteem?

He recalls the first time they truly connected, except he doubts that she would appreciate the reminder that he had ordered her boyfriend to bite her.

Paris. Rome. Tokyo.

She mightn't appreciate one of his older works but perhaps a small painting of that moment?

It wouldn't hurt to try and wouldn't even take that long.

He'd have it finished by the end of the afternoon.

* * *

3:02 pm

Caroline screamed as the vervein soaked bullet tore through her shoulder, leaving a poisonous trail that burnt through her bloodstream.

"I'm _sorry_ ," she choked through the pain, "I had to save my friend."

"My wife!" her captor screamed, "She was my _wife_ , she was _everything_ to me and you killed her and you don't even know her _fucking name_!"

And he was right to hate her for that.

Caroline didn't know her name. She didn't know the name of any of the witches she had killed that night with that one dagger.

She hadn't even seen their faces, not properly. Klaus hadn't let her, ordering her to stand at a distance as he turned them face down before digging the grave.

He'd reasoned that seeing their faces would just haunt her, and she had been shaken enough to agree with him.

So, she had done her best to move on with her life, and occasionally, had allowed herself to forget that she had killed twelve people in one night.

In one moment.

Her eyes flicker to the runes carved onto the floor of the cave. They had been there when she had woken up just hours ago, along with herbs and a box of used matches.

She doesn't know anything about spells but she figures that she can't have been unconscious long enough for the man to have cast the spell after kidnapping her just that morning.

He had been planning this. Maybe since he'd learnt her name.

And he had been taunting her with this ever since she'd first spotted the marks. Checking his watch and promising that he would tell her 'later'

'Later' is another thirty minutes of pain, with her hair sticking to the sweat of her forehead, tears running down her cheeks and mingling with the spit on her chin, the blood staining her white dress.

"This spell," he gestures down, "Is bad magic, took me months to track it down and even longer to find the ingredients, I had to rob a grave and grind up a bone to make this work but I finally did it."

He leans down, pressing his face close to hers, "My wife's name was Susan, and you just carried on with your life as if nothing had happened…you say you did this for your friend and I bet your friend was grateful but your punishment? That same friend, all your friends and anyone who has ever loved you, anyone who has ever _met_ you is going to forget you. Your punishment is that soon you never will have happened. If my wife doesn't get to exist, then you will never have existed."

Horror turns her poisoned blood cold and Caroline shakes her head, trembling,

"You can't," she murmurs in disbelief, "You can't just wipe me from existence, I have a birth certificate, photos, a facebook page…"

He snorts and his snot lands on the skirt of her dress, "Like I said, it was really bad magic but it'll work, it's already begun. You don't believe me?"

He takes out his knife and cuts at the ropes binding her to the chair, releasing her,

"Go see for yourself."

* * *

 _3:40pm_

Caroline leaves him in the tomb, scrambling up the steps to the fresh air and sunlight, she looks around for a moment in disorientation and blind panic before setting her course.

Whatever spell he'd done, she would definitely need a witch to undo it.

Bonnie's house is a twenty-minute walk but she makes the run in ten, racing up her lawn and nearly jumping the porch in her hurry, she tries the front door and when she finds it locked for apparently the first time ever, she bangs on it repeatedly until it finally opens, although with the chain still in place and she sees her friend's face.

"Bonnie, thank God!" she gasps, "I need your help."

Bonnie blinks and frowns, "I'm sorry," she says, " _Who_ are you?"

No.

"Bonnie it's me," Caroline nearly sobs, "We've known each other our whole lives, Caroline Forbes?"

She shakes her head, suspicion clouding her eyes, "Um…I've never seen you before in my life."

" _Seriously?!_ " Caroline runs a hand through her matted hair, "Please, just let me in and I can explain."

She tries to push past her but is knocked back by the invisible barrier, the barrier that hadn't been in place since the first week after she died.

"Bonnie?" Elena's voice calls from the living room, "Everything okay?"

"Elena?" Caroline shouts into the house, "Elena, do you know me?"

A patter of feet and the girl she had seen almost every day since they were five appears at Bonnie's shoulder, her eyes widening in shock when she takes in her bloodstained and wrecked appearance,

"Should I call the police?" she asks Bonnie who shakes her head,

"It's okay," she mutters, "I've got this."

A gust of wind and Caroline is blown backwards across the yard, hitting the letterbox and gasping as the air is knocked from her lungs, "Stay away vampire."

* * *

 _4:10pm_

As she runs through the town, Caroline is feeling faint.

Not faint as in she's going to pass out but faint as in she can't remember how to move as a vampire.

She can't even drop her fangs, or flash without getting super dizzy.

She has to run as a regular human and that takes time.

Time which she isn't sure she has.

If Bonnie and Elena don't remember her, who can she go to?

Matt is a human and she doesn't have the time to get to Tyler's place.

She staggers into the police station and walks straight past the reception, as she had done since she was ten years old and her mom had become the sheriff, but this time, she isn't waved on through.

"Excuse me!"

Martin Davies was only two years older than her and had asked her out a few times before joining the police force when her mom became his boss.

Now, he grabs her arm and pulls her back, "Listen lady," he tells her sharply, "You can't just barge in here, you need to…"

He sees the blood on her dress, "Do you need help?"

Yes.

But she won't get it from him.

"Where's my…?" she begins before stopping and realizing her mistake, she was about to ask for her mom but he would think she was crazy.

"Where's Sheriff Forbes?" she demands and he relaxes, back on familiar territory,

"She's in Richmond at a seminar." He tells her, "Out of reach. Deputy Michaels in charge today."

"It's an _emergency!_ " Caroline presses, desperation making her shake, "Please, I _have_ to speak to her!"

Davies is beginning to eye her like she's crazy and she sees him gesture to a passing cop for backup.

And Caroline knows procedure, he's going to stick her in the waiting cell until he can determine that she's not a threat.

It'll be too late by then.

With a burst of strength, she breaks his hold on her and pushes him into the other cop, knocking them both to the floor as she makes a run for it.

* * *

 _4:20pm_

The sunlight is piercing through her skull as she races from the station.

She crosses the road without looking and there's a screech of tires and the scent of burning rubber as a horn blares,

" _Watch_ it! This car is worth more than your life." A familiar voice shouts.

Damon.

She looks over the hood of the blue Camaro and sees his face,

"Do you know who I am?" she tries, desperately but his face is only full of scorn,

"No." he answers, "And I don't give a fuck."

* * *

 _4:30pm_

Standing on the suburban street, Caroline Forbes holds her hand up in front of her face and even though her eyes are beginning to lose their sight, she swears she can see straight through the skin to the pavement at her feet.

Even her phone had stopped working, the number no longer connected and when she'd tried to get on her facebook page, the results had only shown a Caroline Forbes in New Orleans, Louisiana.

None in Mystic Falls, Virginia.

She's being erased from existence.

Worse than being unloved, worse than not being chosen first and not being the one, she won't even be _remembered_.

But there had to be somebody…

 _Klaus_.

He was the strongest creature in the world, and he loved her and he'd drawn pictures of her, so he'd have to remember her, right?

She sets off at a run but in a quarter-mile is too weak and slows to a jog, she would be crying from terror and frustration but there is no moisture in her eyes and no feeling in her extremities.

By the time she sees his house, her legs feel like jelly and by the time she makes it up his driveway, they feel like nothing at all.

She drops to her hands and knees, crawling through the front door and up the hallway.

By this time, her stomach feels empty and then it's her lungs, her breath rasping as she struggles to get oxygen into her body. She opens her mouth but can only croak.

She's out of time.

She's afraid to close her eyes but looks down to gather the last of her strength and manages one last scream.

 _"Klaus!"_

* * *

 _5:01 pm_

Klaus Mikaelson pauses as his paintbrush hovers a hairsbreadth from the canvas, he turns his head, thinking he had heard his name but as he waits silently, he can't pick up a heartbeat or any sign of life in the house.

He must have been imagining things.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he resumes painting.

* * *

 _5:10 pm_

 _"Out!"_

Bonnie points at her front door and Damon widens his eyes, "Make me."

She glares playfully jumping in surprise as Elena throws a piece of popcorn from the massive bowl in her arms, "You two are disgusting," she mumbles around a full-mouth as she wanders back to the living room. Damon rolls his eyes and flashes forward, stealing a kiss from his girlfriend,

"Seriously though, you seemed worried when you texted me earlier and you can't say, 'Damon, come over now!' and not have be naked otherwise I'm going to think something's wrong"

Bonnie shrugged, "Honestly, I can't even remember why I messaged you," she sighed and ran a hand through her hair,

"But everything seems fine and Elena and I are having a girl's day, so, you have to go."

He rolled his eyes, slowly making tracks to the door, "Fine, then I'm going to go to a bar with Elena's boyfriend."

She snorted, "You mean Stefan Salvatore? Your _brother?_ "

Damon made a disgusted face, "Only by blood."

She laughed and closed the door, making sure the deadbolt was in place before heading to the living room where Elena was spread out on the couch with the remote in hand,

"Do you remember why I called Damon earlier?" she asked but her friend only shook her head,

"Nope, but it can't have been important."

Bonnie flopped down beside her, "Yeah, guess not."

* * *

 _6:14pm_

Sheriff Forbes sighed despondently as she walked through her front door, slowly taking off her gun and stowing it in the hallway stand before turning on the light.

She trudged into the kitchen and took a microwave dinner out of the fridge, her body aching with exhaustion and she can barely bother to heat up the meal.

Eating over the sink, she ends up throwing half the food away before kicking off her boots and making her way to the living room.

As she walks past empty room, she reminds herself that one of these days she really has to do something with it one of these days.

Except that she doesn't sew, doesn't need a home office and gets enough exercise at work to make a gym unnecessary.

She and Bill had bought this house intending to have kids but that had never happened, so the room had just been left there, unpainted, unfurnished and now was just a glorified dust collector.

It was a shame really.

Such a waste.

* * *

 _6:59pm_

Stefan Salvatore meandered into the Mikaelson mansion with the cooler in his left hand.

The Original vampires would never go out of their way to pick up blood from the blood bank and therefore, when they were hungry they sought out live humans.

Unfortunately, the Grill had put vervein in their coffee again and considering how poorly the Mikaelson's would take having their food supply cut off, Stefan had drawn the short straw in providing them with blood bags in the hope they wouldn't realize.

"Ah, hello Ripper."

He manages a smile as Klaus strides into the hall with an easel in one hand, placing it down in the center, "Leave the door open, would you? I want some fresh air to help this dry."

Obediently, Stefan comes forward to admire the artwork, running his eyes over it.

It was a self-portrait, Klaus in a tuxedo, standing in a wood-paneled room looking up at a Renaissance painting. He was standing to the left of the painting, leaving the rest of the space empty.

"You look a little lonely, don't you think?" Stefan decides, straightening up and Klaus frowns,

"You think I should have added an audience?" Klaus challenges, but without any heat to his words so Stefan tilts his head in contemplation,

"Or at least one other person."

He smirks, "Yeah, you're probably right, but I couldn't think of anyone to add."

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading!


	8. Saturday Morning

A/N- A very short drabble

* * *

" _Get. Out!_ "

Klaus Mikaelson looks up from his sketchbook in surprise at the Bennett witch standing over him, eyes dark with fury.

He glances about the room, "This is my house, love."

"I don't care," she seethes, "I've been planning this binge all week and I am not going to have this new show ruined for me by you or any of your… _family_."

It's clear that several words were removed from the last part of that sentence, the kind of words that one wouldn't use in a school or church.

And Klaus knows he should 'play nice', as Caroline puts it, but really- it's so much fun to rile the girl up,

"Come now," he offers a charming grin and sees the twitch of her eyelid that was a sign of impending snapped necks, fried brains and something nearby bursting into flame, "I can sketch silently."

She releases a ragged sigh and puts her bowl of popcorn on the coffee table,

"You're not the problem," she explains, "Not entirely, it's just that when one of you shows up…"

" _There_ you are!" Kol exclaims as he wanders into the room, not stopping until he bumps into the witch and slings an arm around her shoulders,

"I've been looking for you all day."

In the distance, a church bell began to toll the tenth hour as the morning sun blazed through the french windows.

From a purely intellectual standpoint, Klaus wonders how close Bonnie Bennett is to a full psychotic breakdown courtesy of habitation with his family.

A gambling addict probably wouldn't make that bet against him.

Bonnie opens her mouth, either to plead for peace or threaten torture but she's interrupted by the slamming of the front door.

Seconds later, Elijah storms into the room, looking absolutely furious, and with the likely culprit hurrying after him, her heels clattering across the polished wooden floor. He spins around suddenly and she has to skid to a stop to avoid running into him and Klaus can practically hear Bonnie's sanity withering and dying as his families answer to every tragic tale of star-crossed lovers ever birthed from pen to paper begin their next scene,

"Katherine," he speaks her name as a rebuke, "that vase was older than _half my family_ combined."

Klaus vaguely remembers that Elijah had decided to visit an auction house for some new decorative pieces for the house and Katherine had tagged along for some new decorative pieces for her wrists.

She wears a smirk of pink diamonds now, her axinite eyes glittering with malicious glee,

"And worth twice as much," she quips, pouting when Elijah doesn't share her humour,

"Oh come on," she stomps her foot, "They'll fix it up and it'll be good as new, you know, once they wash the brain matter of it."

"Whose brain matter?" Rebekah asks curiously, having caught the tail end of the conversation, "Should we be concerned?"

Katherine opens her mouth to regale them all with what was likely salacious gossip while Bonnie stares at the flat screen tv with a longing that made Klaus feel a quick stab of guilt for having unwittingly ruined her weekend plans of peace and quiet.

"There was a woman at the auction house, a sweet little Australian werewolf who made the apparently unforgivable mistake of flirting with me," their elder brother sighed, "And Katherine thought introducing her to an ancient Grecian vase from the Bronze Age was a suitable response."

As someone prone to jealousy himself, Klaus sees nothing wrong with a little head trauma to ward off potential suitors but Elijah always was one for the high road.

While his siblings inevitably take sides- Kol siding with Katherine, Rebekah making snarky comments about Elijah's choice of women, Klaus takes out his phone, finds a nearby hotel with a television and dvd in the room, that also does room service and books Bonnie in for the weekend, sending the reservation to her phone.

The poor girl is nearly weeping with gratitude as she sneaks out of the room and he wonders if perhaps he and his family aren't a little prone to dramatics.

No.

That probably wasn't it.

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading!


	9. Murder Mystery

A/N- This is a two part.

* * *

It was such a shame.

After all, it had been the most splendid party and a perfect start to a lovely weekend.

Now…

Well…

The maid who had discovered the body had been rather hysterical, the poor dear, and her shrieking had awoken the rest of the -admittedly hungover- house before the breakfast hour.

Elijah- as a doctor- had checked the vital signs and declared him dead and stone cold, meaning he had expired hours ago.

And, as the man in question was lying at the bottom of a staircase with his head twisted at an unnatural angle, he didn't think himself overstepping his bounds in announcing the cause of death to be a broken neck.

Naturally however, they had telephoned for the police, first thing and Elijah had ordered that the body was not to be disturbed in any way.

Fortunately, their hostess Mrs Bennett had had the foresight to arrange for tables and chairs to be set up in the garden near the servants' quarters so the family and guests would have breakfast.

Even though she was an American, a lifetime in England had taught her the importance of a good cup of tea for the soul.

Especially on a chilly spring morning.

Elijah thanked the maid who served him with admittedly shaky hands and studied his companions seated around him at the table.

His two brothers, Niklaus the artist, Kol the stage actor, both brought to Alderley Manor in the hopes of snagging the rich- albeit American- heiress, Bonnie Bennett.

It appeared that Kol was having the most luck in that regard, so Elijah had one less sibling to worry about at least.

Miss Bennett had been educated in America, and unfortunately, did not have the stiff upbringing of an English lady, this death had obviously upset the poor child.

Worse still, she had refused a cup of tea and asked for a coffee instead.

Next to her, was Marcel Gerard, a celebrated war hero, jazz musician and rumoured future politician, whom Kol had already blatantly accused of coming to the Bennett home in the hopes of seeing their sister Rebekah.

However, she had had a previous engagement with an old school friend of hers, thankfully.

Something catches his attention and he raises his eyes to the second floor of the manor, where his wife is standing at the window, observing the scene below.

He can only just make out the smoke from the blasted cigarettes she insists on smoking and when she appears at the table ten minutes later, he can only just note the outline of the mother-of-pearl cigarette holder tucked into the shoulder of her dress.

She rests a hand on his shoulder as she pours a cup of coffee and then proceeds to withdraw a flask from heaven knew where.

"Darling?" he prompts as she tips clear alcohol into the cup, "What on Earth is that?"

Princess Katerina snorts delicately, "Vodka." she states, as if it should have been rather obvious.

Then again, perhaps if his mind weren't on the dead body only half a hundred feet away, it would have been.

"A little early…" Kol drawls, "Is it not comrade?"

Katerina's eyes flash at the word and Elijah glares at his younger brother. No matter how long ago that blasted revolution had taken place, the Russians who had made it to Britain were still dreadfully sore about those now in charge of their motherland.

"It is not for me," she responds, "It is for the widow."

Ah, yes.

"How is she?" Elijah asks, beginning to rise out of his seat, noting his brother Niklaus is doing the same "Does she require anything?"

Katerina snorts, "Vodka cures all," she announces, "A seamstress would help, she will need black clothes for the season, such a shame it is not her colour."

Rather a crass attitude, and Elijah has a moment where he wonders what Katerina's primary concern would be on his own demise.

She re-enters the house as he hears a car coming up the drive and goes to meet the police.

"Detective Inspector Crale and Green."

"Hello," he shakes their hands, "Rather a dreadful accident, such a terrible shame, especially on such a nice day."

Inspector Crale opened his notebook, "What can you tell me about the deceased?"

Elijah turned on his heel and began leading them inside, "Mr Damon Salvatore, American, businessman in…logging, I believe. Came to England to make some deals or meet with someone, I can't quite recall. He and his wife are family friends of the Bennett family."

"And his wife?" Inspector Crale prompted.

"I believe is inside."

* * *

First, the officers ask to speak to the maid who discovered the body and then Elijah tells them what he has been able to determine from his brief, hands-off examination. He knows, before they even begin questioning the maid what their main question would be.

'What on Earth was Mr Salvatore doing on the servants' staircase?'

"I haven't the slightest idea," Elijah readily admits, "It's entirely almost completely at the other end of the house from his room."

"Can you tell us what happened the night before?"

"Certainly," he says, "Well, we all arrived throughout the day, having been invited to spend the weekend with Mrs Bennett and her granddaughter. We met for dinner, afterwards the women went to the parlour and the men to the smoking lounge before meeting up to play cards. Around midnight, most of the guests began to retire until merely myself and Mr Salvatore remained, when the conversation lagged, I suggested we go to our respective rooms, but he wished to continue drinking, as prohibition as made that rather difficult in America. Presumably, I was the last person to see him alive, at one-fifteen in the morning."

Inspector Crale raised his eyebrows, "You noted the time?"

Elijah swallowed but nodded calmly, "Mrs Bennett has an antique clock on the sidepiece, I believe it to be a Pompadour piece that I am rather smitten with, I took a chance to admire it before retiring."

"And was it usual for Mr Salvatore to drink unaccompanied?"

He shrugs delicately, "I'm afraid I don't know. My younger brother, Niklaus, is friends with Mr Salvatore's younger brother, he might have a better idea than I."

"Can anyone verify what time you retired?"

Elijah smiles, "My wife, I'm afraid I disturbed her when I went to bed and she scolded me well for it."

This is jotted down and then he is asked to show them to Mr Salvatore's wife.

The formal sitting room was a spectacular example of fine Victorian design, and it was in this room that Elijah and the police officers found Mrs Salvatore sitting on a chaise lounge, being seen to by Mrs Bennett and his wife, Katerina.

The young woman spied him and sniffed, dabbing under her eyes with a handkerchief and straightening her posture.

"How do you do." she replies automatically when the officers introduce themselves, she manages a tight smile but her accent is more pronounced, suggesting emotional turmoil.

"I am sorry for your loss," Inspector Crale tells her, his eyes softening in sympathy for the beautiful young woman before him. "Would you be able to answer a few questions for us?"

"Now?" she stammers, "I…my husband just _died!_ "

Inspector Crale looks shamefaced, "I know it's unpleasant, however, the sooner we can determine what happened, the sooner we can release your husband's body to you for burial."

She takes a deep breath, "Okay," she declares, "What would you like to know?"

"Did your husband have any enemies?"

" _Seriously?!_ " she spluttered, her American accent and speech grating to cultured ears,

"No, certainly none that would follow him all the way to England and then all the way out to Alderley manor to kill him!"

"We simply have to cover all our bases," Inspector Green muttered and she exhaled,

"He stayed up drinking alone last night, after everyone else went to bed" Inspector Crale continued, "Was that usual?"

Caroline glanced down at her shoes, "Yes, my husband did drink a lot, even in America…he bought moonshine from some of his employees, even after I asked him to stop."

The inspector's eyebrows are raised but they don't comment on that,

"Did you not notice when your husband failed to come to bed?" he asked, and she shook her head, a faint blush in her cheeks.

"He had been so drunk," Mrs Caroline Salvatore murmured dully, her eyes wide and blank with shock,

"Usually when he drinks that much he can't make it up the stairs, so I didn't think anything of it when he didn't come to bed."

The Englishmen had a moment of shamefacedness at the distasteful revelation of marital disharmony and the inspector clears his throat before continuing his inquiry.

"Can you think of any reason your husband was going into the servants' quarters?"

"Perhaps…" she shifts awkwardly in her seat, "My husband…often liked to flirt with other women, he might have tried to go down there to find a maid?"

Mrs Bennett sniffs in derision and squares her shoulders, "Are we done, detectives?" she demands and Inspector Crale slips his notebook into his coat,

"I think we have most of what we need, we simply need to confirm the whereabouts of yourself and your guests."

"I can do that."

As one, they turn to Katerina who paused in the act of lighting her cigarette,

"When I retired with the other ladies, I lingered in the gallery by an open window to smoke…and to see if the ladies went to their rooms or someone else's." she adds, grinning wickedly, "And after my careless brute of a husband woke me up, I went for another cigarette and to check if the rooms still held their assigned guests."

Elijah flinches, " _Really_ , Ekaterina!"

She shrugs, "This was shortly around two, everyone was in their proper beds except for Mr Salvatore, so I looked out over the gallery and saw that the lights were still on in the parlour."

Crale raises his eyebrows eagerly, "And did you see him, Ma'm?"

She shakes her head, "No, but I was not looking for him, I did not care for the way Mr Salvatore spoke to me."

Elijah clears his throat, "Mr Salvatore was…rather taken with my wife, says she reminded him of his sister-in-law."

"Elena," Mrs Salvatore supplied, "They could be twins."

Well.

Elijah met Inspector Crale's eye, seeing the same cold disapproval for the deceased mirrored in those orbs.

"Shall we wait outside for the attending physician?" he offered politely, and the police officers followed him to the breakfast table, gratefully accepting cups of tea as they made conversation about the lovely weather until the physician working with the local police department arrived and quickly came to the same conclusion Elijah had.

The man had died of a broken neck, the bruises on his body were consistent with having tumbled down stairs and his position on the floor, along with the amount of alcohol he had consumed the day prior, suggested this had simply been a most unfortunate tragedy.

The body is removed and Mrs Salvatore is sent upstairs with a sedative, escorted by Niklaus so as to ensure she does not trip on the stairs.

As professional courtesy, Elijah sees the men out, lingering in the driveway as he asks them about the nearest golf course and invites them to look him up if they are ever in London.

Mrs Bennett waits for him in the doorway as he watches the car until it turns a corner and disappears.

"They'll rule it an accident?" she asks, her lips barely moving and he smirks as he plays with the cufflinks in his shirt,

"They have no reason not to."

"Good." She declares.

* * *

 _Eighteen Months Later_

The sun was shining, and though there were clouds in the sky, they were white as freshly laundered sheets and without the merest hint of rain.

A simply perfect day for a wedding.

Elijah lingered in the church grounds, admiring Mrs Caroline Mikaelson as she graciously accepted congratulations in her lavender wedding dress. His wife informed him that the dress was much more suited to her colouring and considering that she had been married once before, very appropriate for her to wear.

It was likely that the rapidity of the union would be frowned upon by the more stringent members of society, after all, Mr Salvatore had not yet been dead two years, however, she was still young and it was such a shame to waste such a beauty.

Besides, anyone who knew Damon Salvatore had certainly not mourned him, except of course, for Mrs Elena Salvatore, a young girl who had sobbed most scandalously at his hastily arranged funeral.

Between this and some rather heartless discourse between Mr Stefan Salvatore and his sister-in-law, it had been quite easy to convince dear Caroline to remain in Britain, where she had used her husband's business connections to find a buyer for Salvatore logging company in Virginia, she had even got an astoundingly good price for the sale, one that had seen her complimented in the financial section of the Times for 'her sharp mind'

She had purchased a lovely apartment in Hyde Park and, as soon as was decent, began investing her time in charities and social calls, becoming quite the fashionable member of society.

It was how Elijah had come to be taking tea with her and when she had mentioned that she was redecorating, had entreated her to call upon his brother, Niklaus' skills as an artist, assuring her that as a 'dear friend of Bonnie Bennett', the entire family was at her disposal.

Some, they soon realised, more than others.

Really, Niklaus could have waited for six months to pass before he'd begun making love to her, even for an artist, this was rather forward.

Fortunately, between his profession and her being an American, society simply shrugged their shoulders at the sudden engagement and wedding. After all, what was to be expected?

With her posy in hand, Mrs Caroline Mikaelson swept across the churchyard towards him, presenting her cheek for his congratulatory kiss,

"What a splendid event," he declares, chucking her under the chin,

"Welcome to the family, my dear."

She has healthy colour in her cheeks and shining clear eyes that hadn't been there when her husband had been alive,

"Thank-you," she responds, "For this and for…the other thing."

For a moment, Elijah's grin falls off his face and chills run down his spine, even as Caroline continues smiling, he realises that he too had rather underestimated her intelligence.

"Of course." he mutters, almost automatically and she shrugs,

"I have never been in love before," she says, almost casually as she looks back to her new husband, "it's nice."


	10. Murder Mystery Part Two

A/N- Part two. Everything in Italics are letters.

* * *

 _Two Years Earlier_

 _'Grams,_

 _I am writing this on the train back to school after having taken the weekend to attend the wedding of Caroline Forbes to Damon Salvatore._

 _Grams, I know father and mother might have ideas about what they think would be best for me, but promise me that you'll never force me to marry someone I don't love. Nor should I marry someone I think I love if it turns out they aren't a good person._

 _You must be wondering why I am writing like this, but Damon Salvatore is not a good man, I'm told you knew his father and they are almost to a one, the same person. Caroline only married him because there were terrible rumours about the two of them that I cannot repeat, even on paper, and her father insisted on it as a means of salvaging the family reputation._

 _Elena Gilbert, a friend of mine, was married at the same time, a double-wedding, to Damon's younger brother, Stefan, who is nice enough, although he certainly likes to drink a lot, as does Damon._

 _I am sure you are wondering how it was they drank anything, as the American prohibition is famous, but I do believe that banning alcohol has actually led to increased consumption, however, you will be pleased to know that I only consumed one glass of champagne and after that drank only coffee._

 _Caroline looked lovely in a gown of white silk, and assured me that if nothing else, Mr Salvatore was well-off at least and as such, money would be one issue that she would not have to worry about._

 _She did not say this because she is shallow, but rather, aside from his handsome features, Damon Salvatore is so without redeeming qualities, that his money is the only reason he has not been run out of town tarred and feathered._

 _Please Grams, swear to me that I shall never be forced to marry a man I do not love, otherwise, I shall runaway to Australia._

 _Your loving, if not obedient, granddaughter,_

 _Bonnie._

* * *

 _One Year, Six Months Earlier_

 _'Grams,_

 _I need your advice._

 _As I have mentioned numerous times in our correspondences, Mr Damon Salvatore is not a good man, or even a man, but rather, an ill-bred demon who would make Vlad the Impaler himself pale in horror._

 _I was spending the Christmas holidays in Virginia with the Salvatore Family, believing foolishly that with guests around, the Salvatore men would behave in a dignified manner._

 _I was grossly mistaken._

 _Stefan Salvatore arrived at the house at midday, so drunk that he could barely stand, and smoking some sort of pipe with something that I do not think was tobacco. Meanwhile, Damon Salvatore flirted outrageously with Elena and when Caroline came upon them suddenly in the sitting room, surprising them by asking if anyone wished for refreshments, he flew into an absolute rage and struck her._

 _I have not miswritten, he struck her in the face with his closed fist, calling her shallow and useless in front of servants and guests. Thankfully, having learnt from you, I knew how to treat her bruised eye and bleeding nose._

 _I had thought she would scream or call for the police, however, once the bleeding had stopped, she merely asked once again, if anyone wished for refreshments._

 _Nobody could stomach the thought of drink or even food. Everyone seemed rendered mute by the scene, except when I returned to the room, it was to find Elena once again being wooed by her brother-in-law._

 _At lunch, I was seated next to Jeremy Gilbert who inferred that he had scars on his neck from a time when Damon had attacked him for interrupting a conversation between him and his sister._

 _Grams, I am afraid that if I do not do something, we shall find ourselves reading Caroline's obituary in the evening paper._

 _Please help me,_

 _Your loving but afraid granddaughter,_

 _Bonnie._

* * *

 _One Year Five Months Earlier_

 _'Dr Elijah Mikaelson,_

 _It has been many years since we last had a proper conversation, though many times we have seen each other at social events and exchanged pleasantries. Still, I have never forgot the sweet young children my cousin Ayana was a firm yet loving governess to, nor the wicked Kol, who I am sure still harbours a strong love for theatrics, snails, snakes and slugs._

 _I am writing as I wish to ask a favour of you and your family, one that I cannot put onto paper as I could not quite think of how best to word such a request._

 _But I am sure that you will gladly humour an old family friend and meet with me this Saturday at my home, Alderley Manor. Please do phone to let me know if you shall take the morning train, there is also a golf course nearby if you would prefer a round after lunch._

 _Yours, etc._

 _Sheila Bennett,_

 _Right honourable…etc._

* * *

 _One Year Five Months Earlier_

 _'My Dear Mrs Bennett,_

 _How could I ever forget such a friend of my family? Especially when you were so kind to us when my father fell ill with that strange sickness no doctor could find a cure for? Such a horrifically trying time, and you were like a second mother to my young sister after our own sought comfort in God and a Carmelite convent in the very heart of Africa, (I am pleased to say that I receive regular reports from the Mother Superior and that my mother has felt the call so strongly, that she has converted to Catholicism and taken a vow of silence. I am sure there is a special place reserved for her in the afterlife.)_

 _Naturally, my family owes you a great debt for this service and I would be more than pleased to meet with you and discuss any way in which we might aid you._

 _Yours faithfully,_

 _Dr Elijah Mikaelson._

* * *

 _Six Months Earlier_

 _'My Dear Caroline,_

 _I am sure you don't remember an old woman like me, especially since we haven't met since you were but a newborn in your mother's arms. However, as you are such a good friend to my granddaughter, I feel as though you will forgive me for addressing you in such a forward manner._

 _As you are no doubt aware, I shall soon be calling my granddaughter back to England, as the passage from America to England is long and can be quite tedious, especially for an unwed girl, I was hoping you and your dear husband would accompany her at my expense. I would feel greatly relieved knowing she was with friends. Of course, I would gladly host you and your husband in London for the season, which I am sure a beautiful young woman like yourself would thoroughly enjoy (and dare I say, a glass of champagne or two?)_

 _Telegram your reply and I will book the tickets today'_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Mrs Bennett._

 _Right honourable etc._

* * *

"What the hell is this rubbish?"

Caroline looked up from her stitching as a piece of paper landed in her lap. Frowning, she picked it up and saw her name, her stomach dropping before she scanned the handwriting and realised that Tyler Lockwood hadn't penned this missive.

The young man had used to write her from his school in the Appalachians, where he taught young children languages, until her husband had started opening all mail addressed to her and flown into a fury. She had telegrammed Tyler, asking him not to contact her again.

She had valued his letters, but she valued her life more.

"An invitation to escort Bonnie to her grandmother's and visit Britain," she reports dutifully, placing the letter beside her on the couch and resuming her stitching,

"I think it is a fanciful idea."

Damon frowns, "What? You don't want to spend a season drinking tea and eating boiled meats?"

"Seriously?!" she laughed, "Even in first class, being on a ship for a week would surely be horrible and the English drink beer from morning until afternoon, when they insist on drinking whisky like it is water. Not to mention the weather will be terrible, I will have to stay inside all the time and the English women are so fast!"

She shivers dramatically and squares her shoulders, hiding her wince of pain and keeps her eyes on her stitching, breathing in through her mouth so the stench of moonshine on her husband wouldn't make her recoil.

"I could do with a holiday," Damon announces, "If anyone asks, we'll tell them that I'm looking to expand the company into Britain."

Caroline merely hums, "If you say so, dear."

* * *

 _Three Months Earlier_

"Knock, knock."

Damon Salvatore raised his head and glared at the British man leaning against the door to his cabin, "Can I help you?"

The man had his hands in his pockets and pushed off against the polished wood with a grin,

"I was about to ask the same question," he announced with a grin,

"Niklaus Mikaelson, Mrs Bennett is a family friend and told me that her granddaughter would be on this ship."

He glances around the one bed suite, "Although, I assume not in this room?"

Damon rolled his eyes, "Obviously not, she's rooming with my wife, next door."

The young man grinned and didn't leave as Damon had rather hoped he would,

"Excellent," he reaches into his jacket and withdraws a rather ornate flask,

"Then, even though it's only just after lunch, I hope you won't mind a drink?"

Damon raised an eyebrow, "I thought alcohol was banned until we left U.S waters?"

Niklaus grinned, "My oldest brother is an Earl, they wouldn't dare arrest me, besides, half the crew has been sipping on sherry since before we even launched."

Damon takes the proffered flask and tips his head back, pouring as much alcohol into his mouth as he can before swallowing and coughing.

"Strong stuff!" he gasps, the fumes making his eyes water and Niklaus chuckles,

"Yes, it was a gift from my sister-in-law, a Russian, woman can't fathom the idea of a full day without vodka."

"My kind of woman," Damon quipped, turning to the side table and looking around for glasses, "I wish my own wife was half as good as that."

"Hello?"

Damon rolled his eyes, "Speak of the devil." He drawls as his wife breezes into his cabin as if it was their damn living room, he glares at her and she falters, her shoulders dropping as she tries to make herself small.

As if he couldn't hit a small target.

"What do you want?!" he demands, and she looks about uncertainly,

"The captain has invited us to dine at his table this evening," she informed him, "He is quite a lovely man."

Why did she have to have such a grating voice?

"Go annoy him then!" he snaps, "I'm busy."

She flinches and pastes a wide smile on her face as she turns to Niklaus,

"Hello," she sticks out her hand in a forward manner Elena would never have shown.

"Caroline Salvatore."

Niklaus takes her hand, turns it gently and kisses the back of it, bowing slightly,

"Niklaus Mikaelson, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Which has been made," Damon announces, "So Caroline can go now."

She glares at him, she is so irritated when he is rude to her around strangers, but she won't dare say anything unless he decides to have her come to his cabin at night time.

Niklaus follows Caroline with his eyes and when she is gone, he reaches into his other pocket and takes out another flask,

"I have more where that came from," he grins as Damon drinks the last of the vodka, "I've been in Chicago and nearly died of thirst."

Chortling, Damon happily follows Niklaus back to his own cabin, which isn't as nice as his own but has three bottles of whisky stashed away.

"Aren't you English supposed to be cold and reserved?" he asks, as he helps himself to the first bottle,

"Not with drinking mates."

Damon thought calling them mates was a little presumptuous, especially when this was only the younger brother of an Earl and clearly not as rich as he was, however, he'd make-do until the steamer could start serving booze.

He had to put up with him for the better part of a day before a staff member finally told him that the bar was open, at which point, he left Niklaus at the dining table with his wife and Miss Bennett and didn't see him again, although when he did later hear that the man spent the week pretty much sober, taking long walks on the promenades with his wife and Miss Bennett, having long conversations about art and the beauty of the ocean.

Possibly one of those men.

* * *

 _Friday Morning_

Damon felt as though he had only just returned home.

Yet, already that damn clock on the mantelpiece was striking ten and his bloody wife was at the door, putting on her gloves and announcing that it was time to leave or they'd miss the train.

Good.

Let them miss it.

He had ideas of what a fun weekend would entail and none of them involved being at bloody Alderley Manor, playing nice with the ancient Bennett witch while he pretended to give a damn about whatever it was women discussed.

In truth, it was hard to remember when he hadn't been sober, since leaving American waters.

Who knew the British could be so fun?

Or their women so accommodating.

Granted, the ones he paid attention to all seemed to have an unclean air about them, a bit of a hard look in their eyes but he hadn't had to bother himself with his wife's bed in weeks.

It was nice to share a bed with someone who wasn't a nag or prone to tears.

When he got back to America, he'd get himself a proper mistress.

A brunette one.

He can't remember where the hell they're supposed to go, but Caroline gives the instructions to the cab driver and they reach King's Cross, finding the right platform and walking towards the first-class carriages when he hears his name called.

He sees one of the Mikaelson brothers- there was a lot of them- approaching and tries to remember which one this is.

Brown hair but not a stuck-up prig, so…

"Hello," Caroline intercepts the man, "Nice to see you again, Kol."

Kol's head swivels but he grins at her, "Hello, love," he says, jovially, "How have you been?"

The two of them exchange pleasantries and Damon starts to feel a headache coming on.

"My brother is somewhere about," Kol announces, "He might have an answer for you about that gallery you mentioned last time, why don't you go find him while your husband and I get the bags, hmmm?"

Caroline has been well trained to recognize a dismissal when she hears one and obediently shuffles off, accepting a hand from a stranger into the train and Kol slings an arm around his shoulders, "Come on, mate," he cries, "There's a bar here and we have at least thirty minutes till we have to be on the train."

Damon grins, "Lead the way."

* * *

 _Alderley Manor_

 _Friday Evening_

"I can't believe I haven't met you earlier," Damon crooned, leaning close to Katerina as she laughed flirtatiously, the scent of vodka and cigarette smoke making his mouth water,

"You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."

She pouts, sitting back on the couch and turning her eyes away, "Not the most beautiful?" she demands, her Russian accent adding to her charm.

He flares his eyes at her playfully and she jumps up, sashaying to the wet bar and pouring two glasses almost to the brim with vodka,

"I thought this was done in smaller amounts?" Damon questions as she hands him his drink, making her laugh as she sat down on the couch, closer than last time,

"For the English perhaps," she whispers conspiratorially, glaring at her husband,

"But Russians and real men," she put her hand on his knee, "They drink full glass, da?"

He grins, shifting his knee so her hand brushes up to his thigh, "Da."

Suddenly, Mrs Bennett clears her throat, causing Katerina to start and withdraw her hand,

"I do believe it is time to retire ladies," she declares, sweeping across the room to pry the glass of vodka from Katerina's hand and give it to Damon,

"Gentlemen," she addresses the room, "We shall see you in the morning."

With one last flirtatious wink, Katerina stands and follows their host from the room, nearly bumping shoulders with his boring wife as they leave.

Klaus and Kol leave pretty soon after that, Kol had been restrained since they arrived, more interested in Bonnie then having fun and there was something about Klaus that rubbed Damon the wrong way.

Elijah, he didn't particularly give a damn about, the man was utterly boring, his only saving grace was that he sent the servants to bed which allowed Damon to refill his drink more regularly, without the judgemental or watchful eye of a butler.

He sat watching the fire, sipping on the drink in his hand that he had long since forgot the name of when he looks up and notices that the ponce is leaving the room.

Good.

He finishes the glass and stands up, intending to refill at the wet bar before swaying and realising that it was maybe time to cut himself off.

Bed sounded good right now.

Even if the woman in it was a boring old blonde.

He cuts through the hall and a soft whistle has him glancing up, halting in his tracks as he sees Katerina leaning over the balcony, in her dressing gown, with her hair down, her cigarette holder in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

She smirks when their eyes meet and tosses the paper down, where it hits the tiled floor, and watches as he bends down to pick it up, opening it up to see a hastily scrawled note.

 _'Go downstairs to the kitchen where we will not be disturbed, I will follow. Burn this note.'_

He already feels his cock beginning to harden as he begins tearing up the paper and looks back up to her, she points one delicate finger back to the parlour where the fire was still crackling merrily in the hearth.

He tosses the note into the fire, watching it curl and burst into flame before having a moment of regret.

If he'd kept that note, he could have used it for blackmail later on.

Ah well, perhaps he'd get another chance at a later date.

He doesn't know exactly where the servants quarters are, so it takes him awhile until he spots an obscure door and opening it, sees a staircase leading down into darkness.

Damon senses a presence behind him and starts to grin…

Until a hand clamps over his mouth, bony, hard, male and an arm wraps around his throat.

The last thing he sees is the darkness below.

The last thing he feels is him soiling himself.

* * *

Kol Mikaelson waits until Elijah silently descends to the bottom of the stairs before he drops the body he was holding in his arms letting it tumble down until it landed on the floor in a heap.

His brother crouched down, checked for a pulse, held an ornate pocket mirror under the nose and then stepped back, nodding in confirmation before stepping carefully over the corpse to reach his side.

The two of them look around to ensure that nobody is watching before heading up to the gallery. Kol was rather tempted to laugh, after all, they were dressed for bed in silk robes and pyjamas, but he managed to keep it in until they reached a window, tucking back the curtain to look outside.

"Bloody hell, my arm is tired," he mutters quietly, "Haven't had to do that since the war."

"I should rather hope not," Elijah replies, "Thank-you, by the way."

He shrugs, even as he feels a blush of pride, "Our family debt is paid…"

He pauses and chews his lip thoughtfully,

"His widow will be alright?" he asks cautiously, "Only, she's quite nice and friendly, in spite of everything that bastard did to her."

Elijah exhales quietly, "Mrs Bennett will look out for her, perhaps she shall even stay on in Britain, we could invite her and the Miss Bennett to Epsom."

Kol brightens up considerably at the prospect, no more concerned about the corpse on the ground floor than he was about the weather three weeks from now.

"I do hope the investigation will be over quickly," he sighs as Elijah drops the curtain and they begin walking back to their bedrooms.

"Only, Bonnie and I wanted to go for a walk tomorrow afternoon."

* * *

 _Three Weeks Later_

Elijah had 'accidentally' run into Inspectors Crale and Green at Grosvenor Square and politely insisted that they join him for lunch at a nearby restaurant.

"Mr Salvatore's father is kicking up a bit of a fuss," Inspector Crale offers as explanation for their presence outside the American embassy,

"Insisting that we investigate the matter further."

Elijah hums sympathetically, "Of course, losing a child must be a horrific trial, but, we already buried the body, did we not?"

"Cremated," Inspector Green interjected, before glancing down at the menu, "Mrs Salvatore had the body cremated."

"Oh yes, I remember, the poor dear was worried about sending it back to America and thought it would be easier for everyone if it was sent in an urn."

"A little strange, wasn't it?" Inspector Crale queried, "That she didn't go back to America after her husband's death."

Elijah kept his eyes on the menu,

"Not at all," he answered, quite casually as he turned his attention to the wine list, "Between you and I, I don't believe there was any love lost between Mrs Salvatore and her in-laws and even if there were…" he cleared his throat, "Mr Salvatore accrued quite a few debts while he was in London, debts which Mrs Salvatore will have to see paid before she could return home."

"Debts with pubs and unsavoury places you mean?" Green prompts and Elijah nods,

"Unfortunately."

Inspector Crale exhales, waiting until their orders had been taken before resuming the conversation,

"As Mr Salvatore was a foreign citizen, we had to be thorough with the investigation,"

"Naturally," Elijah offered,

"And though we asked nearly a hundred people in London about Mr Salvatore, to a one, they all described him as a drunk degenerate who only put down the liquor long enough to pick up a woman."

"We interviewed some of those women as well." Green added, "Not even they had a good word to say about him."

Elijah should certainly hope not, the amount of effort that had been put into sourcing these prostitutes and spreading the word through the necessary channels that Damon Salvatore was on the prowl for paid low-quality company without leaving anything that could be traced back to a Mikaelson had been the most he or his loved ones had spent since the war.

"Are you questioning the ruling of accidental death?" Elijah asked, "I daresay, the thought that the man- whatever he was in live- could have been murdered sends chills up my spine."

Inspector Crale shook his head resignedly, "Mr Salvatore is quite furious but really, there's no reason to suspect that his son was killed, he was a known alcoholic and harasser of maids, it is very plausible that he went to the servants quarters with the intention of flirting with a maid and fell to his death down the dark stairs."

Elijah leaned back in his chair, "Tragic, but, the sooner this is over, the sooner we can all get on with our lives."

* * *

 _Six Months Later_

"Really, Niklaus," Elijah chastised the moment he walked through the door of his London studio,

"You are an uncouth boar!"

Klaus rolled his eyes, "And you are so stuffy, we could put you in Father's old hunting room and display you with the taxidermized bear."

Elijah huffs in derision but pauses to admire his latest work,

"When I told the family to have an open-door policy towards Mrs Salvatore in her trying time, I meant the front door, not the bedroom door."

Klaus hissed, "Who _bloody_ told you I was trying to seduce her?"

"Have you _forgot_ to whom I am married?"

"Has she _forgot_ that the only reason she's allowed to remain on British soil is that she swore to give up spying?"

"I do not have any concerns that the British government will deport or hang my wife for spying on her in-laws, especially when, for all intents and purposes, we spent the war skiing in Switzerland."

"Oh," Klaus answered, with sarcastic surprise, "Is _that_ where we were? And here I thought we were so far behind enemy lines that we were essentially drinking Schnapps in the Tiergarten."

"I still maintain that war would have been finished in a single year if I could have convinced you or Kol to not loiter outside that blasted bar."

Klaus sniggered, before balancing his paintbrush on the easel,

"Big brother," he began, turning around, "Caroline Forbes is enchanting, she's strong, beautiful, full of light, a bloody survivor if ever I saw one and quite frankly, I have every intention of courting her properly once the right amount of time has passed."

Elijah lowered his eyes and adjusted the cufflink in his sleeve, "Niklaus, I have no doubt that your intentions for this young woman are honourable and pure, however, Mrs Bennett called on us for our skills and our discretion, we owe her a considerable debt, which does not include the majority of our family and possibly even her dancing on the end of a rope for murder."

"I'm hardly going to tell a woman I fancy that I helped off her bloody husband," he protested.

"When you're in love, you'll tell that person all your secrets," Elijah murmured sadly,

"Why do you think it is they tell spies to never fall in love?"

* * *

 _One Year Later_

"You know, I'm not an idiot."

Niklaus had been staring at Caroline Salvatore on and off for the last hour, but now he raised his eyes off her painted image to the model stationed by the window, her head tilted to catch the morning light.

"Never thought you were, sweetheart," he replied, "Your sharp mind is one of your most attractive features."

She hummed disbelievingly, "Did you know that my mother worked on the police force during the war?" she stated, seemingly veering off topic and he turned his attention back to the canvas, "Did she?"

"Mystic Falls is quite a small town, she had worked there as a secretary and even after she had married my father, had been allowed to continue on, then, when the war began, she was allowed to work as a police officer, I found it dreadfully exciting."

He wonders if he's mixed the right shade of blue, "I'm sure you did." He murmurs without really hearing her,

"It's why I grew up fascinated with crime and the manner in which policemen caught the criminals."

His hand stills as Klaus begins to realise where Caroline was going with this pointed conversation, however, his training told him to continue playing the fool.

"Oh?" he made a sound of surprise, "Well, that is interesting."

She rolls her eyes, "What is _interesting_ was that a man who was friends with the Bennett family happened to be aboard the same transatlantic journey as Bonnie and aware of the fact, yet Mrs Bennett had asked Damon and I to escort her to Britain. What is _interesting_ was that you drank with my husband only until the bar opened, as which point you were almost immediately sober and uninterested in him. What is _interesting_ was the manner in which my husband couldn't take a step outside our front door without one of your brothers appearing drink in hand, what is _interesting_ was that none of you seemed to like my husband very much, nor were you in need of his business connections but whenever he stumbled home capable of speech, he mentioned your names. What is _interesting_ was the manner in which your sister-in-law poured him generous amounts of vodka, yet herself drank only water and every time he turned his head, she was making eyes at her husband. And that nobody in the house found the behaviour inappropriate, or thought to say anything…"

"Finally," she notes, standing up and stretching, "I know the depth and distance necessary for a man of my husband's height and weight to break his neck falling down the stairs and those ones that supposedly ended his life were exactly four steps too short."

His mouth is dry and he swallows, placing down his tools before taking a step towards her, expecting her to step back, perhaps to panic or flee the apartment.

Instead, she takes his hands and squeezes them, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze.

"Damon Salvatore was a monster," she declared, fiercely, "An abusive, horrible person and death was too good for him, I had planned to kill him myself, many, many times, but I couldn't figure out how to do it without being caught. Thank-you, for doing it for me."

His lips are pressed tightly together but he manages a stiff nod, "Don't mention it," he mumbles, before adding quickly, "Truly, love, _don't_."

She smirks, "I'm not about to go shouting it from the rooftops, don't worry Nik…I just…didn't want our future to begin with a lie is all."

Tenderly, she reached up and gave him a chaste kiss, "Shall we get tickets to the opera? Or perhaps the ballet? Also, I want to meet your sister, so when are her school holidays?"

Niklaus watched her glide about the room, chatting amiably and smiled to himself.

She would make a perfect Mikaelson.

* * *

A/N- Tiergarten is in Berlin, Germany.


	11. Horror Movies

A/N- Who wants Caroline and Elijah friendship?

* * *

Being murdered and becoming a vampire _sucked_.

There was no way around that.

Okay, yes, being murdered and staying permanently dead- like, in a coffin for all eternity dead- was worse but either way dying had its downsides.

So, admittedly, between the dying and the 'vampires are real!' and all the drama that had come with that, it had been awhile before Caroline had started to see the upsides to what was essentially immortality and eternal youth.

Like, how she could eat basically any new food she wanted, including some of the most dangerous in the world and she'd be fine.

Like, how she could take all the time she wanted to learn new languages, or study whatever she wanted or do volunteer work and not have to worry about starving to death or keeping the lights on.

Like, the new hobbies she could try.

Her latest one was horror movies.

She'd never liked horror movies as a human- unless she was using them as a ploy to make the boy she was on a date with feel more manly- because they scared her.

But now, she knew that most of the evil creatures in the horror movies either weren't real, didn't act in that way or weren't getting past the warding of her house.

And if they did, chances were, they'd trip the magic alarm and encounter something even scarier.

A Mikaelson.

So, she gave horror movies a try.

Because she is Caroline Forbes, she does her research, she browses sites for the recommended films, the cult classics, the award-winning movies and then the trendy ones at the forefront of the genre.

She wasn't looking for ones that would terrify her or get her heart racing- again, difficult to do- she wanted ones that made her think, or at the very least had her asking her boyfriend about whether the antagonist could possibly exist, or whether they'd actually been like that, or in one weird Saturday afternoon, whether he had inspired the legend being played out on screen.

Which is why she now knows that mermaids were real, Klaus wasn't Jack the Ripper or responsible for the Salem Witch Hunts and to never, never watch any really horrific films with him in case it gave him ideas.

And that was where her little problem arose.

Her new hobby was fun and all, but when the movie was done, she wanted to discuss it with someone and there was really nobody to do that with.

Klaus had been her first and most obvious choice, but his moral compass was so damaged it might as well have been fished from the ruins of the Titanic along with the dinner set he still mourned the loss of. And while he could happily sit through conversations about fashion, tv shows, her philanthropic interests, anything else really, when it came to horror movies, he kept interjecting that she had no reason to worry because he would never let a resurrected homicidal hook-wielding maniac kill her.

As she lived in New Orleans, in a house of four adults, her next choice had been to try Katherine Pierce. Unfortunately, she was of the belief that as five hundred years of her life had been a horror with frequent pauses for the full spectrum of eroticism available to her, why would she bother watching horror films?

So, she had just finished watching Replace, and was now sitting at the kitchen island, browsing online trying to find a site to start a chat about it- and admittedly, stocking up on some of her favourite skincare products- when Elijah wanders in to make himself a pot of tea.

"Did you enjoy your film?" he asks politely, and she nods.

A downside to living with the Mikaelson family is that when they heard screaming in their home, they never assumed it was a film, so she'd created a group chat to warn them when she was about to watch something.

"It has me wondering whether, if I started rapidly aging tomorrow, I could bring myself to kill innocent people for their healthy skin."

"Oh, I could do that easily," Elijah offers, with slightly alarming casualness, and when he glances up to see the alarm in her eyes he elaborates,

"Granted, I would rather not sacrifice _innocent_ people," he allows, "But provided I could source myself healthy-skinned criminals or degenerates, I would not have to."

"The other option was to die," Caroline muses, "So, I guess if that was the case, I would too."

"Even if it were not," he continues, "I assume the rapid aging left the person grotesque?" he waits for her nod of confirmation,

"Well, not to be vain, but as a man who throughout history regularly met the criteria to be considered handsome, I would not wish to lose my looks or the privileges they grant me in society-whether human or supernatural."

"I noticed that ugly vampires weren't really a thing," Caroline says, and he nodded, "Not unless their makers are going for quantity over quality."

"I would definitely try and find a witch to restore my beauty first," she admits, "But…I think, I'd do the same thing you would, maybe I'd just find some really bad people, like Klan members or a hate group and just steal all their skin."

He hums in agreement, "Here's hoping we never have to find out."

He pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, "This has me feeling that a trip to a day spa is in order."

She giggles and leaves him to his booking.

Caroline compels her way into a film study course at Tulane university, choosing one that specifically focused on horror films and on the required watch list was the Saw Franchise.

It didn't particularly interest her, but she was going to pass this seminar with flying colours as she had done every last high-school and university class she had ever taken, so she flips through her diary, finds a free day and pencils it in.

She rises early, has her breakfast, shower and is settling into the home theater with her morning coffee when Elijah sweeps past the door and backtracks, leaning against it as he takes in her presence,

"You usually don't watch films until afternoon." he remarks,

"I thought you and Katherine were working with the heritage society today," she replies, and he shrugs.

"Katerina has taken an impromptu trip to New York," he explains, pushing off the doorjamb, and coming further into the room.

"She got a lead on a new shoe designer whom could possibly be the next big name."

"What are you watching?" he asks, and she shows him the queue she's lined up on the streaming service,

"An entire franchise in one day." She answers, holding the remote in hand, not wanting to start it until the conversation was clearly over,

"It must be good then."

"No, but I have to watch it," she sighs, before the idea strikes her, "You want to join me?"

He clearly hesitates but Caroline is pretty certain that he doesn't have anything else planned for the day, "It's psychological horror." she bids, and he takes the armchair next to hers,

"Perhaps _one_ film."

* * *

As he was a Mikaelson and had witnessed a lot of bloodshed over the centuries, Caroline had prepared herself for Elijah to critique the torture scenes, his own expertise miles ahead of anything the producers of the franchise could have reasonably known while still being allowed to live outside a maximum-security prison or mental institution.

What she hadn't expected was his picking apart of the story.

"I understand the man feels that his life is wasted," he comments after the fourth film, while they were waiting on their food delivery,

"However, all this time, effort and money spent on creating these elaborate puzzles, sourcing these victims, could have been better spent travelling the world or at the very least, living his life as enjoyably as possible."

"He wants people to appreciate their lives." She argues, half-heartedly because, seriously, he makes a good point.

"A somewhat difficult task to undertake after their presumed nervous breakdowns, post-traumatic stress disorder or, at the very least the rather steep medical bills they'd be left with after their physical recovery," He counters,

"I can't believe there are eight films based on this idea."

"Oh, this is only going to get worse from here on out," She laughs, "Not many franchises can be good after six films."

"Well, I'm committed _now_ ," Elijah sighs, "Let's see this through."

* * *

And just like that, her hobby became shared with Elijah, she was no longer watching large quantities of horror films alone in the dark like an antisocial, potentially crazy person. Instead, the two of them found times in their schedules that suited the both of them and made an evening of it, complete with take-out, large bowls of popcorn and in-depth discussions after, or during if the film was really bad.

With Elijah, she could also explore more aspects of the horror genre because he was searching for movies for them to watch as well, and on the rare occasion something was actually terrifying, it helped to have the second strongest creature in the world sitting beside her, emotionally invested in keeping his viewing buddy alive.

She mentions this to him one night and he smirks into the wine he had taken to trying to pair with their films.

"I would like to think our friendship extends beyond horror films," he quips, "And that you would trust me to keep you alive regardless…" he trails off as a particularly gruesome scene starts,

"But, yes," he admits, when the body parts have finished hitting the floor,

"Your death would rather inconvenience me, although, at the very least, you could be sure that my vengeance would be truly creative, thanks in part to these films."

She laughs and leans her head on his shoulder, "Thanks, right back at you." 

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading


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